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Wednesday Writing: This Victim

It's been a few months since I opened up a Word Document and began writing; my playlist playing in the background as I type. So, today, I sat down and wrote something I have been wanting to for a while. As you may know, I'm currently organising another Anti-Bullying event to take place, and I decided to write this piece to show what that it is not 'cool' or 'fun' to make someone feel worthless. Who knows what it can lead to?

This could be quite upsetting, as it deals with a tough-topic, and was in no way written to offend anybody. If it has done so, please don't hesitate to contact me, and it will be removed from my blog.

Hands clasp
around my waist, attempting to drag me away. I stay crouched on the ground, a
single note covered in an untidy scrawl clutched between my fingers, showing
that time was running out when it was written. 'Em' is written on the front. For me. My hands shake; the knuckles
bare. My whole body becomes wracked with uncontrollable sobs, leaving me gasping
for breath as the realisation begins to seep through my body, a poison moving
into the veins. I retch. A crowd of people stand around me – none of them
wanting to be the first to try and calm me down. They just watch on like I'm a caged-animal at a zoo, and I wonder if I look that feral.

Charlie's easel rests
on the nearby wall for support, a canvas covered in a collection of colours;
while others decorate the walls, this one will stay unfinished. There’s music.
An orchestra continues its symphony, an eerie chorus of violins filling the
room, a choir accompanying the musicians in the background. You could even say
it was peaceful. An ironic setting for the events of today. The room, despite
having spent almost every day of my teenage years curled up in the armchair
reading, is unfamiliar. An unforgiving place that I want to escape. I wasn’t welcomed with the smell of a cake baking in
the oven, or the warmth of her arms as she engulfed me as I crossed the
threshold. Instead, I was greeted by silence. It forced me through the door
that was left slightly ajar, carried me up the stairs when I hesitated and then
let me fall; my body hitting the wooden flooring with a crash that promised to
leave bruises covering my legs. The text, what I know now was the final
one, was too late. I recall, as the wind whispers my name and the rain sends
the gawping spectators in the streets into their own homes, that there were
signs. The panic that was etched across her face every time the mask fell; in
the moments where she would take out her phone and the conversation would end.
The dark circles under her eyes where I knew sleep had never come, and the
lines that were embedded into her complexion that were ordinary, it seemed. I
decided not to pry. Exams, they were a few weeks away, the text books piled up
in one corner of my own room reminded me of that. It's anxiety, I would tell
myself, as sleep threatened to stay away for another night. Don't worry. I would say. She would tell you if there was something wrong.­­

The pleas not to
tell; the promises; the pledges. They all left my vision glazed. I noticed, but
also didn’t, the unfinished meals left on plates, the bones that were all too
present, the clothing that fit only a few weeks ago. The scars, covering the
length of her legs, covered up: hidden away. No longer there. On the floor, I
clutch her hand, begging for someone, anyone to allow me to do something. TO DO
ANYTHING. Sobbing into her unmoving chest, I silently cry out for help. For
this victim; for my friend.

***

This piece of work belongs to Sophie Louise. It shouldn't be copied, or 'recycled' without permission.

I liked it. I thought it would be difficult for me to read it because I have been through this kind of thing but I loved it. Actually, I have recently been writing about this issue myself but mine is way different to how you have done it so I would love for you to read it sometime, on page 14 of it now. Oh and well done, it is beautifully written and you need to do this more often. :) Chloe x

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Hi! My name is Sophie, and I'm 15! I run the book-blog 'A Day Dreamer's World', and when I'm not planning blog posts, you can find me reading(a lot!), writing, or cooking. I also love listening to music, watching films, procrastinating my time on Twitter and drinking tea! I'm a huge fan of The Hunger Games, and a member of Nerdfighteria. May the odds be ever in your favour!

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